


Rich Man, Poor Man

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:28:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8507938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: How do you pay a debt when all you own is a toy car?





	

Kenneth Hutchinson, owner of practically all the property in town, eyed the pleading face across from his. It went against all his beliefs to grant an extension; this poor fool owed him fourteen hundred dollars and could only pay one hundred and fifty dollars of it. The only collateral he had to offer was one piece of property in the worst part of town—and even that was nothing but an empty lot, mortgaged to the hilt.

The face was an attractive one; strong, even in the act of begging, with seductive blue eyes and a decidedly kissable mouth.

"Look, this's all I got—you can take it or forget it, I got nothin' else to bargain with."

Hutchinson smiled and leaned across the table, then began unbuttoning the man's shirt. "That's not quite true . . . ."

The indigo eyes looked into his, widening. "Just what did you have in mind?"

The shirt was now completely open. Hutchinson ran his hand through the soft dark hair down the muscular chest. "You owe me a considerable amount of money, and your financial resources are limited. That doesn't give you many options. I could foreclose, take your money and property, and that would be the end of it—"

"Or you could wait 'til I get the money—which won't be that much longer—"

Hutchinson nodded, still smiling. Then he leaned across the table to touch those soft lips with his own. "There is another alternative—one I think you'd find quite enjoyable. I know I would—" The startled look Hutchinson confronted as he drew back made him chuckle. "I don't have a sofa, but the top of my desk can be quite comfortable—"

"Hutch?" Starsky waved a fistful of Monopoly money in his partner's face. "Look, I can throw in a Get Out of Jail Free Card, but that's all I got—I'm going past Go in one-two-three-four-five-six-seven spaces, if you could just wait—Hutch! Are you listenin' to me?"

Hutch blinked a couple of times. "Starsky, the only property you own is Baltic Avenue, which is mortgaged, so even if I landed on it, I wouldn't have to pay rent, you only get two hundred dollars when you pass go, and that's your only source of income. You owe me fourteen-hundred. There's no way you can possibly recoup your losses this late in the game."

"Sure there is, all I gotta do is land on Free Parking and I'll be in the black—whatcha grinning about?"

 

"You. Always a get-rich scheme, even playing Monopoly." Then Kenneth Hutchinson, Land Baron extraordinaire, tossed his piles of money into the air and watched the multi-colored bills rain down over his partner's head like confetti. Next he swept the board off the table, red and green plastic hotels and houses bouncing on the floor, Community Chest and Chance cards fluttering through the air. Starsky stared at him with much the same startled expression he'd had moments ago in Hutch's fantasy. He rose from his chair, walked over to his partner, leaned down, and kissed him. After a moment Starsky got up from his chair.

They stood, nothing touching but their lips, for several moments, then Starsky gently caught Hutch's bottom lip between his teeth. "Whassup?"

"You owe me a considerable sum of money," Hutch said as well as he could without using his bottom lip.

Releasing Hutch's mouth, Starsky stepped back. "You threw everything on the floor; doesn't that mean the game's over?"

"That game, yeah. This game, not by a long shot. As I say, you owe me a considerable sum of money, and you have no means of payment—"

Starsky bent, scooped up the little pewter-colored race car and tossed it to Hutch. "So, ya want my car? Here ya go, it's all yours."

Hutch set the game piece on the table. "Uh-uh."

"All the money from my other games?"

"Nope," he recaptured Starsky's mouth. After a long, probing kiss, Hutch drew back and unsnapped the top of his pants.

Starsky raised an eyebrow, amused. "I think I'm beginning to understand . . ." he said slowly and unzipped Hutch's zipper. Another quick kiss, and he knelt down, pushing Hutch's slacks and underwear down, freeing his erection, helping Hutch step out of the tangle of clothes. "I got no choice, do I?"

Hutch didn't answer, simply invaded his mouth, moving slowly in and out.

Starsky licked him persistently, stroking those places he knew Hutch liked best, cupping his balls in one hand while using the other to caress the base of his cock. Hutch felt himself growing, stiffening in Starsky's mouth, the sharp pleasure of his near—orgasm becoming more and more difficult to resist. Hutch pushed him back, pulling out of his mouth. Starsky raised his confusion-filled eyes to meet Hutch's. But Hutch said nothing, simply holding out his hands to help Starsky to his feet.

Starsky put his hands into Hutch's, allowed himself to be pulled up, to be backed against the table, to have his jeans removed, warily acceding to Hutch's wordless directions. Then Hutch was pushing him back on the table, leaning over him, kissing him hard.

Pulling away from the kiss, Hutch grabbed the pan of melted butter, scooped up a smooth, slick handful and used it to lubricate Starsky's ass, easing Starsky's knees to his chest. Starsky's rectal muscles slowly relaxed around the probing fingers. Removing his fingers, Hutch entered him.

"Okay if I put my arms around your neck?" Hutch's eyes connected with Starsky's, found an unfamiliar doubt in the familiar blue; he wanted to say something reassuring, but somehow couldn't bring himself to. He nodded. Starsky slipped his arms around Hutch's neck, laced his fingers, closed his eyes. "I had no idea," he whispered in Hutch's ear. "Always before when I got myself head-over-heels in debt I'd end up hocking my sports car."

Hutch grinned, relieved that Starsky was playing too, and that he hadn't broken the mood with unnecessary explanations. Released from worrying about Starsky's speculations, Hutch threw himself into fully enjoying his partner. "Considering how much money you owe me, you could be here for quite some time." He liked the prospect of having Starsky at his mercy.

"Guess I could handle that. Let's see—I figure I'm worth about five hundred or so an hour . . . ."

"How 'bout minimum wage?"

"Minimum wage is for unskilled labor," Starsky objected.

Hutch didn't answer; he had slowed his pace and was trying to catch his breath. "Do you have any skills?"

"You try this on a softer surface and I'll show you what kind'a skills I got," Starsky promised. The velvety purr in is voice and the supple wiggle his hips gave were enough to finish Hutch; blinding ecstasy overwhelmed him, flowing through his body.

Moments later Starsky was pushing him off, climbing off the table, arching his back. "You owe me a back rub."

Hutch grabbed him, turned him around. "I'll take care of your back later; right now I'm more interested in your front." Then he sank to his knees and took Starsky's cock in his mouth.

Starsky rested his bare ass against the table, obviously enjoying the attention Hutch's mouth was paying him. Hutch hadn't given him much chance to get turned on before taking him, and he was only half-hard, but there was no impatience as Hutch's pampering mouth settled into a lingering cadence.

Hutch found the sensitive places he'd memorized, licking them insistently. He grasped Starsky's hips, holding on tight as the cock swelled in his mouth.

Starsky's fingers were in his hair, then one hand slid down to stroke his throat.

Hutch put one arm around Starsky's ass, hugging him close, while his other hand moved Starsky's thighs apart, and his fingers caressed the delicate skin.

That was all it took to push Starsky over the edge. The fall was delicious.

When Starsky's cock began to soften in his mouth, Hutch released it, pushing up the tee shirt Starsky still wore, kissing his way along his chest. Leaving it all bunched up at the collarbone, Hutch skipped up to Starsky's throat. After painstakingly kissing every inch of Starsky's neck, face, and ears, after nuzzling through Starsky's hair, Hutch whispered, "You said something about a softer surface? And showing me what skills you possess?"

"Did I? Oh, yeah. Sure . . . 'cept I could use a backrub an' a nap first."

"Sure thing." Kenneth Hutchinson, Land Baron extraordinaire, grabbed his associate in a fireman's carry and, laughing, started for the bedroom where they could continue their business deals.

**Author's Note:**

> An early one.


End file.
